Worth Nothing
by Xynie
Summary: He was left to die but was found on the brink of death. Then the old coot gets the idea that Severus should be the one to help him. The BoyWhoLived and HeWhoHatesHimMost in one room? This will be a disaster. DarkAbuse, No Slash Harry Sev story
1. Prologue

The whole house was dark. It didn't look like anyone had been there in days and that was true. The whole family had moved out at the beginning of the summer. They had been such a strange family. Two fat pigs of men, more flesh than anything, and a twig of a woman who would do anything to make them happy. Well, good for her but my, didn't the neighbors, what few they had, find strange. There was always shouting in that family. Bad blood, they all said. Possessed, said another. Haunted souls come to torture us. This idea had most likely originated from the little waif, spirit-like, terribly thin boy that could sometimes be seen. But he was only seen a couple of times, so no one knew if he actually was there or not. But they were glad, now that that evil, terribly odd family was gone, they could live in peace.

The house itself was gutted. Windows broken and shutters hanging lifelessly on to beaten hinges. The door itself was broken in and barely hung right. The gardens grew wildly and where once somewhat pretty, if not boring, flowers had lived, only death and weeds grew. The lawn shot up wildly and the neighbors didn't care. It wasn't their house, so why should they care? If only they had.

Inside was worse. The floors were torn up from the hasty move. Glass was everywhere from the windows and possibly broken plates. Stains and mold littered the floor. If only someone had looked closer and smelled a bit, they would have noticed the sharp metallic scent and the deep, deep almost blackness of the stains. The only thing left in the whole house that was working was a small clock that slowly started to chime out 12 sounds for midnight.

A head jerked and what would have been a laugh escaped but it came out more as a raspy cough. The figure turned from where he was leaning and counted out the chimes. 12. It was now midnight. It was finally July 31st. The figure quietly started humming a raspy version of happy birthday as his eyes slid shut to avoid seeing the once snowy white feathers that were now red as they shone in the feeble moonlight.

He didn't sleep much anymore. At first that was all he could do but eventually that became boring. Then he tried counting the dust specs. When that became boring, he counted the nails in the floor boards. Now he couldn't even do that. Not that it was his fault he couldn't. No, everything was fuzzy, blurry shapes in his left eye anymore and blackness dominated his right eye. That had gone away so long ago. It must have been years, he decided. That was how long he had been here. Not just 2 months but years and years. Maybe not like this but he had been here for that long.

He tried to move for his precious source but had to give up. It was no use. It was his own fault, of course, that it was outside of his reach. Just as it was his fault that the bowl was upside down over the largest of all the cracks. He had been foolish to think he deserved those things and they had been taken away from him. Just like everything else had. His body couldn't even move anymore. He deserved that too, for hurting the most precious boy. It was all his fault.

He had to take stock of what he could. He could still move some of his fingers and most of his toes. Couldn't move his left arm or left leg, or else he would pass out again. He could barely move his right arm and his right leg lay there unused. Just breathing hurt. Actually, just about everything hurt. He knew he was lucky though. Sir could have tightened them before he left and then he wouldn't have been able to feel his arms at all. It was time for another try. Stretching his arm out to the side, he stretched as far as he could, trying to reach the darkened shape that always lay just beyond his reach. Gasping for breath, he leaned back again, disappointed and listening to the rattling.

The sound of metal links clinking together as they moved. Chains that were connected to the wall and then back to his arms and legs and neck. It was okay. These were there so everyone out there could be safe from him.

_That's not true._

He shook his head. Great, voice was back. He had liked voice for a bit because it brought an end to the monotony of his existence. But then voice kept saying things. It would stay stuff that made his head hurt. He didn't like that stuff, he wanted to forget that stuff. So he pushed voice away again and again but it just kept coming back again and again. He huffed and stuffed voice away once again and went back to checking himself.

Each warm spot was still there, just as he remembered them. They were on his back to but he didn't care about those. He shifted a bit and bit back a gasp. Yeah, that was still there as well. He still felt the stickiness as if it hadn't dried ages ago.

**Worth nothing else but as a bloody whore…**

He groaned and pushed that voice back too. He hated that voice worse. It didn't just make him remember, it made him feel again and again the things he didn't want to feel ever again.

He turned to thinking about the layout of the room. Anything to take his mind away from the turns it was taking. Nothing should have changed since he last thought about this. To his left was the window, the glass broken on the ground and most of the bars still in place. In front of him were the ashes, where Sir had burnt all the things he didn't deserve. The one thing that wasn't burnt was the broken stick. Half of it was laying there on the ground and the other half was stabbed into his shoulder. On his right, no! He couldn't think about….her. But it was too late. The memories came.

Her beautiful white wings beating against her attacker, her claws and beak lashing out. The sound of her hitting the ground and her wings breaking. And finally….the snap of her neck breaking. The blood stained her beautiful white feathers now.

And as he tried to cry tears from tear ducts that had long since dried up, he turned sixteen. He was bloody Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Was-Now-Dying.

**Author's Note**

If you think that I need to up the rating, please tell me and I will. This is my first attempt at a story such as this one.


	2. Chapter 1

His eyes slowly opened and he blinked a bit. He could see that it was pretty dark in his room with what little eyesight he had left. He groaned, or at least he tried to since barely any sound came out, as the fact that he had blacked out once again hit him in full force. Though, he thought, it is probably something that comes with dying.

Oh, yes, Harry was completely aware of what was happening to him. He would have to be a complete fool to not realize the situation he was currently in. But what was there that he could do? He was chained to a wall and broken, not that he didn't deserve it of course. Maybe everyone would be better off without him anyway. Ron and Hermione could find some real friends and Ginny could find a new love. Remus could move on and heal after Harry got Sirius killed. Oh gods, Sirius….

No! He weakly shook his head but it was too late. The flood of memories was already returning, the floodgates having been opened by the single thought of his late godfather…

As Harry faded into the oblivion of haunted memories, he never felt his scar begin to burn with a bright light. Three figures appeared in the room with him. Their forms looked much like a partially formed Patronus, hazy and unable to make out any true details. But it would have been obvious to anyone looking who they were. The female of the group had long flowing white hair and tears streamed from hidden eyes. Her mouth was open as if words of outrage spilled out but no sound came. The two men by her side wanted to look away. Instead, one took the ghostly female in his arms and pulled her close. The other, who was man but wasn't man, walked up to the boy, mourning and regretting how badly they had failed him. How everyone had failed him.

The man turned to the two others and nodded gravely. He lightly touched Harry's mark, the mark that was not a curse mark but an ancient symbol of absolute love. Each of the forms glowed briefly and they knew that they didn't have long before this boy would also be joining them beyond the veil, at least if they didn't hurry.

The woman stepped up and pressed a light kiss to Harry's forehead. He couldn't have felt it but her simple touch pulled him out of the memories and into deep unconsciousness. Her face, what was seen of it, hardened into harsh absolution as she faded to find the one man that she trusted his life with. The men watched her leave and took up guard. The man who was also a stag reached up and lightly petted the hazy shape of an owl that now rested upon his shoulder.

Meanwhile, She has found the man she was looking for. She found him in his living room at the castle of course. She wouldn't have suspected anything else. But what saddened her was the tumbler and bottle of firewhisky that sat on the table beside him. He himself was fast asleep in what couldn't have been a comfortable position. He was in a high backed armchair with a booked clenched in one hand and his head leaning on his other fist. Light snores came from his mouth and she had to smile, remembering a far off memory of the two innocent children falling asleep on the couch after a long day of play. But She needed to focus on what she was here for. Reaching and building up all the strength that she had, her voice finally reached past the veil. It was a light whisper but there all the same.

"Sev…"

The man before her, snorted as consciousness quickly returned to him. The journal that he had been reading dropped to the floor with a bang, making him jump. But before he could reach down and grab it, his eyes caught sight of the form standing in front of him.

"Li-Li-Lily?"

Now, Lily Potter, deceased, could claim the rank of being one of the very few people to shock Severus Snape into speechlessness.

* * *

Severus had been having a peaceful night. He had begun a complication potion for Poppy and had went to relax before his fireplace with a glass of firewhisky and a good book. But before he had realized it, his eyes drooped and he fell into sleep. But when he heard a quiet voice in his chambers, he immediately snapped to attention. No one knew, barring Albus and Poppy, where his chambers at Hogwarts even were! So there should be no one in here! As the book banged to the floor, Severus realized that he must have dreamt the voice. He went to pick up the book and head off to his bed when he noticed the form in front of him.

The woman was beautiful. She looked like a Patronus. Her ghostly hair fell in waves around what he believed to be a dress, he couldn't tell. But that wasn't what shocked him. What shocked him was the now visible, so familiar green eyes.

"Li-Li-Lily?"

That was all he could manage to get out of his mouth at the moment. She was dead and gone, this was all a hallucination. He repeated these words over and over to himself, a mantra that he believed would bring him back to reality. Severus would have kept saying it as he cradled his head in his hands and bent over in his chair if not for the ghostly touch that he felt on his cheek.

"Sev…" Lily repeated.

Severus could sense the urgency in the light tone. "Lily? Is it really you? Why have you reappeared as a Patronus? I need….Albus…he must…." He would have rambled on if not for another touch that immediately silenced him and drew his face to the face of the woman he had once loved. "Lily?"

"Go….now…."

He blinked in confusion. Go? Where? "Where Lily? Where would you have me go?" He said, even though in his soul he already knew the answer.

"To…Har…" was all she got out before her form began to rapidly fade.

"No…don't go…" Severus unconsciously muttered as Lily once again left him. He could clearly see her mouthing these words over and over. Goodbye. I love you. Forgive Me. Take good care of Him. And then she was gone. And so was Severus, having already ran to grab his cloak and Floo to the place closest to Number 4 Privet Drive.


	3. Chapter 2

Severus Snape had already flooed and apparated to just outside Privet Drive before he realized how absolutely irrational he was being. Running off in the dead of night because of a ghostly Lily telling him to do so. He had just woken up and also had a bit of drink still in his system. In all logical senses, he shouldn't have come here. But his gut feeling was that there was no other place he could be but here and he had learned from experience that the gut of Severus Snape was rarely wrong. With that though, he started the walk to Number 4 Privet Drive.

Harry realized that he didn't hurt as much anymore. His mind told him that that was not a good sign but he really didn't care much anymore. He had had enough. So much in his short life, even if a freak like him deserved it. No one would miss him if he died and Harry was ready to let the pain finally end. A lone tear, pulled from what little liquid he had left in his body, rolled down his cheek as he faded into the painless black.

The forms of James Potter and Sirius Black stood over Harry and reared back when they felt him spirit start to loosen. They desperately reached out to Lily, expending almost all of the energy they had left to do so. As they faded, each man whispered a prayer that he wouldn't be too late. Just as Sirius left, he gave what little energy he had to James, who nodded and disappeared to outside.

As Severus was making his somewhat quick walk down the way, he felt the same oddness he had felt in Lily's presence. He turned just as a form drifted to him.

_"Go, Snape! He…is…dying!"_ The form of James Potter whispered as he too faded. As he finally left, he smiled as he witnessed the mad run that Severus Snape had broken into. _Maybe he cares more than I thought…._

Now he was convinced. Severus drew in deep breaths as he rushed to the house. It condition made him pause but that was no concern of his right now. He kicked in the door, breaking it down the rest of the way and pulled out his wand. "_**Point me**_ Harry Potter!" he quickly muttered. The wand pulled him up broken down stairs and around fallen glass and smashed knick knacks until he reached the small room. Its door was falling off too but Severus reached in and pulled it outward, snapping the hinges. He stepped carefully into the room and immediately bumped something. He looked down but all he could see was a lump of white and red.

His sharp intake of breath was the most visible sign of his horror, in this situation. This was the boy's familiar, the owl! She obviously was long dead. It was only then that the smell he could only describe as death reached him. "Lumos." He whispered, even though he almost later wished he hadn't. The sight made him, hardened spy, death eater, and potions master want to cry and run outside to throw up. The form on the wall almost didn't seem human and those who put him there obviously were not human either. The form was starved beyond belief, almost every bone in his body was visible. Many welts, cuts, and bruises were on his body, almost all of the infected, making him looked black and red rather than white. He was limp but the chains around his arms and legs were still visible and it was obvious that those were too tight and were cutting into his wrists. There was something sticking out of the boy's shoulder and crusted blood covered it. Severus got closer and had to cover his mouth. His face. The face that held part of Lily's face. What had those bastards done to him? More bruises and cuts were there but that wasn't the worst thing. Over one eye, it looked as though the skin had been completely melted off his face, or burnt, or something of the like. It looked like a cut had been there as well but then something else had happened. Another burn like mark was over the other eye but it wasn't as progressed as the other. Severus also noted that Harry's limbs and extremities were bent awkwardly, showing obvious signs of broken bones.

He quickly snapped out of it and immediately felt for a pulse. It was there but it was weak. Severus Snape didn't fear anything but now he feared for another's life. Before he had realized it, four blasts hit the chains and caught Harry Potter's falling body with a care no one would have thought he possessed. He reached into his robes for the emergency port key that was meant to take them directly to the infirmary. When he received it, Severus had heatedly sworn at Albus and Poppy that he would never need it. As he clenched his hand around it, Severus Snape was thankful that he had been wrong.

"Poppy!" he screamed as he landed back in Hogwarts. The portkey was designed to alert both Albus and Poppy if he had used it and Poppy was already rushing into the room.

"Severus! What's wrong? Why did….Oh, dear god!" she screamed as she caught sight of the body in Severus's arms.

"Save him Poppy. Please, don't let him die!" He pleaded.

Poppy grasped Severus's arm and squeezed a bit. "We will Severus. Now, lift him onto a bed, carefully!"

Harry wondered if this is what death felt like. He felt floaty. Everything around him was dark but every so often words got inside.

"Multiple breaks…not…time…"

"infections…"

"…scarring….god…."

"retinal…mage…"

"how….survive…this?"

"…t know…."

"..tards!"

"Sev….cal….there…rest…"

"Albu….year…healing…"

Those were the main things that drifted into his black space. There were also some crashes but those were nothing.

But then one day everything change. Time seemed to start again and Harry let out a small whimper as the pain flooded back in. The blackness around him faded and white light took its place. Maybe this was hell, since he could feel everything. Harry definitely deserved hell for his freakiness. After a while the pain faded a little bit and two sounds reached Harry's ears.

The sound of a quill scratching on parchment and a soft snore.

Those are not sounds that Harry thought he would find in hell. Harry realized that he had been found and forced to actually living in this hell. He sat there and thought about why he deserved it until the scratching sound abruptly cut off and the sound of someone rushing over to nearby him was heard. The voice that came from whatever created the movement originally told him exactly where he was.

"Oh, Sev, why do you have to be tormented in sleep as well as while you are awake? The lot that you have drawn just isn't fair."

Bloody Hell! That was Madam Pomprey! That meant he was at Hogwarts. But how in the world did he end up here? He tried to move, to open his eyes, to do anything but he found himself completely and utterly unable to move. What in the world had they done to him? So Harry Potter spent the next 10 minutes trying to move or make a sound to get Madam Pomfrey's attention. He finally managed the smallest of squeaks but it was enough. Footsteps immediately rushed over to his bed.

"Well, well, have we rejoined the land of the living, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey's teasing voice came to distract him from the multiple diagnostic spells she was casting over his body. It didn't work. "You were in pretty bad shape sir, you were, when you came in here. We had to put your whole body in a stasis so it could heal. That would be why you cannot move, Mr. Potter. Just wait for a little while longer and I will take the spell off of your mouth but you will not immediately speak, am I understood?" Madam Pomfrey must have somehow gotten a yes off of him when she walked away and busied herself gather potions and salves.

"Here we go." She said just before the spelled was lifted.

Harry never knew that just being able to move his mouth would be so glorious. He didn't speak, since he feared the healer's wrath, but contented himself in moving his lips and tongue around.

Madam Pomfrey calmly pressed a vial against his lips. It startled Harry and he immediately clamped his mouth shut. "Do not be like that, Mr. Potter, this is a potion to hydrate and sooth your throat. Now, drink!" she ordered and Harry reluctantly opened his mouth. His throat, which he hadn't even realized was very, very scratchy and dry, immediately felt better.

"Now, I will allow you to ask a few questions but you can say no more than three words and no more than four questions, do you understand? I will not having you re-stress what I have to already heal! Now, go ahead with your first question."

"How…get…Hogwarts?" This was actually much more difficult than Harry could have imagined it being. He had been going for How did I get to Hogwarts but only those words came out! Did Madam Pomfrey have a spell on him or something?

The healer giggled a bit as she guessed the boy's line of thinking. "No, Harry, you are not under a spell of any kind. You have just been asleep and healing for a very long time. You don't remember coming here at all? Why, Professor Snape found you at your house in horrible condition and brought you here." Her expert eyes didn't miss the jerk his lips did at the mention of his house.

"Prof…Snape…saved…?" Harry gasped out. He didn't like only being able to talk. He wanted to be able to see as well!

"Yes he did. Professor Snape appeared here in the infirmary very late in the night with you in his arms. He was in such a state and refused to rest until you were safe. Before you ask, yes, that is him you hear in the other bed, I had to drug his tea and food just to make him sleep. Don't ask about how he knew about you, since none of us have been able to get it out of him either, as of yet. Your next question?"

"How long…I…asleep?" Harry grinned at being able to get more than three words out this time.

"Harry Potter, I told you, no more than three words!" Madam Pomfrey scolded. She wished she hadn't though, when his whole body tensed, even while under the stasis spell. That was not a good sign. "Harry, I am not mad at you, I just don't want you to overextend yourself just yet. You have been asleep for just under a week. We found you on August 1st and now it is 2am on August 8th. I hadn't expected you to wake this early, though, with the extent of your injuries."

"How bad?" Harry croaked out, his voice already becoming hoarse from just a bit of talking.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Harry, I do not want to lie to you and I shall not, no matter what Dumbledore says. You were on the brink of death when we found you. Every single wound you had was infected to some degree. We had to remove a very large splinter from your shoulder and rebreak many of you bones. Along with that, the cuffs and chains on your arms had to be surgically removed because they had cut deeply into your wrists."

Harry wanted to shiver but he couldn't. He knew that the punishment he got, the one that he deserved, was very, very bad but to hear someone else describe it….it was horrible. And the piece of wood….How could attend Hogwarts now, that his wand had been destroyed? Harry noticed that Madam Pomfrey had mentioned Dumbledore keeping this from him but didn't comment on it. He had a more important question.

"Eyes…what...wrong…with…my eyes?" he gasped out, not caring that he was disobeying her orders again.

The healer's silence at his disobedience was explanation enough. Something was very wrong with his eyes.

"Harry….whoever did this to you poured something into your skin, the skin that had already been cut open, over your eye. By the time we found you….Harry, we weren't able to save your right eye. You are now blind in that eye."


	4. Chapter 3

When no response came from Harry, Madam Pomfrey moved away to where she had been sitting before. She took up her quill and continued to fill out the form in her hands, which read at the top in large, bold letters: **Lawsuit for The Mistreatment and Abuse of a Wizarding Child by Muggles**. Her thoughts were full of anger and sadness, so much that she didn't even notice the absence of the soft snore that had filled the room before. It wasn't until a sharp, loud snap drew her again that she looked up again.

Harry Potter was supposed to be the Boy-Who-Lived, the supposed savior of the Wizarding World is Albus Dumbledore was someone to go by. But that wasn't him! That boy was a celebrity who should be praised. No, he was a worthless nobody freak who deserved what was coming to him. The savior wouldn't be blind. He was.

_ You know that isn't true. Ask your friends. You are worth something, everything to them._

Voice was also blind. Voice lied. People lied. Sir and Ma'am were the ones who told him the truth. They told it to him like it was. They taught him that he deserved it like he did.

**Worthless Nobody! Freaks like you don't deserve to live. They don't even deserve to see!**

Harry let out a soundless whimper as that voice came back as well. Sir was right. The teachers of Hogwarts shouldn't have found him. He didn't deserve to be here.

_Harry….you do deserve to be here. They are the ones who don't deserve to be here. It is their fault you are hurt. Their fault that your one eye is now blind._

That phrase reverberated around in his head.

Blind.

Blind.

Blind.

Eye is Blind.

Can't See.

Darkness.

**Blind.**

** BLIND!**

As it sunk in completely, Harry's accidental magic struck out due to his distress. It struck the nearest possible source of other magics it could find. The Stasis Spell surrounding Harry's body let out an audible snap as it released itself.

Harry jerked at the sudden freedom. Normally, he would have run but instead he curled up on his side and sobbed, even if no tears came out. It was too much. How could he still be a wizard if he was blind and his wand was gone?

Poppy quickly rose out of her seat and ran to her shaking patient. "Mr. Potter, stop that this instant! You are only going to reopen your wounds at this rate!" Her scolding had no effect; Harry had already sunk deep into the pit of despair. She jumped when a hand landed lightly on her shoulder. Poppy spun around and found her other patient standing behind her. "Severus Snape, you should not be out of bed either! You have exhausted not only yourself but your magical core as well!"

Severus sighed at her mother hen-ness. "Poppy, go sit back down and let me handle this." He softly said. When Poppy looked like she would protest, he lightly pushed her towards the chair and turned back to Harry Potter. Lily's boy. The boy he had let down. He should have been able to protect him, damn it all! Severus shook his head to clear it of such thoughts. Now was not the time. Now, now he had to focus all his attention of helping Harry.

Severus walked over and carefully moved the boy up a bit. His next action was to slide behind Harry and pull him onto his lap in a comforting embrace, whispering calming sentences to the boy. He was again shocked by how light and thin this boy was. Along with him being way too short for his 16 years, he weighed practically nothing. Severus felt the boy stop shaking and relax into the arms of sleep once again. But when he tried to move and place Harry on the bed, he would immediately start shaking again. Severus gave a very slight smile. Imagine, the child of James Potter clinging to him, Snivellus, for comfort. He gave a very light laugh before following Harry into the realm of sleep as he remembered what had happened afterwards…

Poppy had reluctantly gone back to her work. When the sound of light breathing followed by the soft snore once again filled the room, Poppy glanced up and smiled a bit. If only her camera had been nearby! Poppy carefully moved both boys into a position where it was less likely for either of them to wake up sore. She also put a blanket over both of them and a pillow behind Severus' head, since Harry had his own "pillow" before dimming the torches completely and going into her office to rest.

"Poppy, you need to report this."

Poppy glanced up from her place at the sink. She had been cleaning some of her tools. "Severus," she started, turning so she was completely facing him. "I talked to Albus while you were in the loo. He has asked me to hold off on sending a report to the Wizarding Child Services." She sadly said.

Severus' face had turned dark. "Damn that man. This is just a child but he treats him like a savior. Isn't he worth more than just being that pawn to kill the Dark Lord? Poppy, you need to send that report and I will be gathering the evidence that you need for it." He didn't wait for Poppy's response, instead turning and walking out of the room.

In his private quarters, Severus immediately found the book that he was looking for. His quick, potion stained fingers found the spell he had been looking for before slamming the book shut and stuffing it back onto the shelf. He then stalked to the floo, intent on reaching his goal while the moon was still high. His goal: The Dursley House.

Once there, Severus quickly cast a few charms that would make both himself and his magic unseen to everyone. Then he stood in front of the main door and cast his spell.

_"Ostendo Praevius __**Tempus Temporis!"**_** rung out through the dead night.**

** This was not a complicated spell but it was still classified as dangerous. It truly was a dangerous spell. It meant 'Show Me The Times Past'. The user was able to view the previous events in time that had happened in the area they had cast the spell. The danger was that this spell drained their magic away depending on how long they went back and how long they stayed and watched. It was a rarely done spell but the memories gained from it could not be altered by any means.**

** Severus carefully watched as the spell took effect and time began to spin backwards. He had to choose the right time to stop or he would be trapper for longer than he intended. He stopped on the day that Harry would be arriving home from Hogwarts.**

** He watched with horrified eyes as the older man, Vernon Dursley, openly abused his nephew with no regard for who was watching. As the days past, he followed the abuse as it got worse and worse. Finally, he arrived on a day that was just over a week from the beginning of July.**

** It started out like all the other days he had seen. Harry getting dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour to make breakfast for the fat pigs and none for himself. A few smacks and hits here and there added to the normal routine of the day. Harry was given a long list of chores and completed them perfectly, although that wouldn't have mattered to the Dursleys, who abused him no matter how well he completed the task. He went in a fixed dinner, which again, he wasn't allowed to eat. This is where it changed. **

** Petunia, still the same bitter girl Severus knew as a child, and her son, the second fat pig, left for the night. Vernon was smirking. He yelled for Harry to come downstairs and Harry obeyed, knowing that if he didn't obey he would be beaten to an inch before death. Vernon walked over to the boy, although Severus didn't know if you could call the man's walk a walk, it was more of a waddle, and smacked him to the ground. Harry didn't protest, like always. To Severus' horror, the piggish man pulled out two pair of cuffs and handcuffed Harry to the railing of the stairs. He then proceeded to snap the boy's belt off and yank his oversized pants and hand me down underwear down to his ankles. Severus didn't want to watch but he needed to so the memory could be presented as evidence. Vernon then took the boy's belt, once he was….**_**finished**_**…and beat him with it. Severus watched as they locked him away, took away his eye, and killed his familiar. **

**It was horrifying. Severus had never seen abuse this bad. He abruptly ended the spell, falling to his knees from both exhaustion and sickness. He quickly stood once the nausea had passed and made his way to the Infirmary, where he spelled the memories into sheets of paper to turn into the Wizarding Child Agency. **

Severus jerked awake, unsure of where he was. But when he felt the breath of the small body he knew where he was and what he had to do.


End file.
